CHAPTER 12
608 Words
Silence pressed in around them like a grave.
Raven stared at Lucien, her hands shaking, her breath caught somewhere between a sob and a scream. “You… you killed my mother?”
Lucien's eyes shimmered with guilt. “I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t know you were hers.”
Dante stepped forward, rage bleeding into his voice. “You ordered her execution. Don’t you dare soften it.”
Lucien snapped. “She was a traitor! She allied with demons, and she—”
“Enough!” Raven’s voice cracked like thunder. The ground trembled slightly beneath her feet.
Memories churned in her head, murky but relentless—flashes of red eyes, of a lullaby sung under a blood moon, of hands clutching her tight before being torn away by claws and fire.
“I saw her,” Raven whispered, eyes wide. “When I was a child. I saw her die.”
She looked up at Lucien, tears streaming down her face. “It was you in wolf form, wasn’t it? You were the one who dragged her body away.”
Lucien’s silence was her answer.
Something in Raven shattered.
“You marked me,” she spat. “Made me yours. After murdering the one person who gave birth to me.”
“I didn’t know,” Lucien said again, quieter this time. “She was hiding in a rogue camp. I was told she was summoning Vael, bargaining with hell. I thought she was the enemy.”
Dante watched Raven, his jaw tight. “He’s not lying. But does that excuse it?”
“No,” she whispered.
Lucien stepped forward. “Raven, I will pay for what I did. Any way you demand. But don’t turn away from me now.”
“I don’t know who to turn to anymore,” she said.
She pushed past them both and fled the war room, her power pulsing dangerously under her skin.
---
Hours later…
Raven sat by the frozen river at the base of the mountain, shivering in the wind, but unable to feel the cold.
The moon glinted off the water.
She stared into her reflection—one eye silver, the other glowing faintly red.
“I’m becoming something else,” she whispered to herself.
Then—footsteps.
She didn’t look up.
“I thought you’d come,” she murmured.
Dante dropped beside her, wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be alone with that much power running wild.”
“I’m afraid,” she admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of myself.”
He turned her face toward him gently. “You carry pain like armor, Raven. But you don’t have to bear it alone.”
She leaned into him, and he kissed her temple.
Slow. Tender. No fire, no frenzy—just warmth in a world that had gone cold.
“You make it hard to hate you,” she whispered.
“That’s the idea.”
Then he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her.
Raven rested her head against his chest, and for the first time in days, let herself cry.
---
Somewhere deep beneath the mountain…
Vael watched the magical flames dance in his cauldron. Raven’s tear-streaked face reflected in the smoke.
“She’s unraveling,” he murmured. “Good.”
He turned to the chained creature behind him.
“Elara Quinn,” he cooed. “Your best friend has no idea what you are, does she?”
Elara lifted her chin, defiant despite the blood on her face. “She’ll stop you.”
Vael grinned, fangs flashing.
“Oh, I hope she tries.”
- Writer
